


I Understand What I Am

by TalesOfBelle



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: First Person Perspective, Gen, revenant appears in places he shouldn't be appearing in, revenant is no longer restricted by the delusion that he is human, revenant monologues about a several murders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25016248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfBelle/pseuds/TalesOfBelle
Kudos: 3





	I Understand What I Am

Furled in a dark corner of someone's home inside a closet, hidden under hanging clothes, I see the space beyond the slats - a bed, a mirror that I catch the glint of my eyes in, a mantle full of trinkets. They would have sent something other than me if it wasn't for the protection detail now bleeding out and stuffed into a dumpster in the back-alley of this residential zone. See, this one wanted to live modestly, didn't want to think about being protected, told them to be subtle. She didn't notice when they were there and now she must think they are so good at their jobs.

I don't move when I hear the hiss of the apartment's front door sliding open. Don't move when I track her footsteps through the lounge to the kitchenette, she ditches bags there on the counter.

I move when she enters the bedroom.

I unfurl from my position and the only sound is disturbed fabric, a creaky door, and her sharp intake of breath when she sees the monster emerge from the closet.

See? I understand what I am.

* * *

Understanding has made what I do easier. I used to struggle in vents, like my bones still had to push the bag of skin that held them. Now I am spider-like. I don't find the shaft constricting, I can bend easily at the ninety-degree angle required to descend and I am not deluded into struggling with tools when I twist the screws from the grating. No noise yet. I don't want alarms yet.

I struggle to remember what I used to think when I unfolded from ceilings before this one. Now I think in the points of articulation throughout my frame, how each motion folds into the next and turns me from a bundle of limbs to a figure standing tall in some office block's hallway. I am a thing of exposed bones of metal and smooth joints. I am two glowing lights in the visage of a skull. I am a horror in the dark that a janitor has seen.

He doesn't know what it sounds like when I chuckle, " _Heheh_ ," I know the noise sounds more like electronic distortion. A message carried on a poor signal. Static - and the last thing he hears before I make him eat his mop.

His keycard can bring me to the top floor office. There's so many security clearances he had to pass just to be allowed to scrub the floors. He might even appreciate that I'm decapitating the man upstairs.

* * *

This next one is for me. I want to enjoy it.

There's a row of expensive vehicles that I drag my nail across. I like the way high pitches echo through concrete spaces, skinbags convince themselves that it sounds like screams. It freezes them into place. I can see the outline of my target spotlit at one end of the urban cavern and he's staring at me - Like I'm just an inscrutable, moving thing. I stopped trying to simulate a human gait a while ago. Now I lurch lopsided, because one nail needs to drag on metal. A final sudden screech is punctuated with a pop as I put my foot down further to one side than before. I want to center myself in this light, in his wide-eyed stare.

He hasn't even reached for his gun. The guy never would. He's not the man who makes the guns nor the man with the guts to use them himself - he's just the one who moves them around and puts them in the right hands. Right now he's soiling himself and asking inside that head of his, 'where's my team? where's my guys?'

He probably doesn't even recognize me. I wonder if any Hammond Executives really would.

"What are you?" Sounds like a boy. The waver in his voice makes the question sound so stupid.

"I am the shape of your sins," I tell him,

and then I eat his heart.


End file.
